#knowing cool tiger lady = point in her favor

[incendiorum-arch]

"Do you like me too Lucrezia?" Gabriella was knelt down, sparkling as she looked at the feline, hoping for some validation.

HM. LIFTING A PAW, LUCREZIA swipes her tongue over it and then passes her paw over her ear, appraising gabriella silently the whole time. she goes for another lick, and then stops, nose twitching. there’s a familiar scent clinging to the witch… almost like…

she stands, abruptly, and shoves her nose forward, setting her paws on gabriella’s knees as she sniffs. does she also know the tigress that lucrezia had quickly become so fond of? interesting. the familiar lifts her head, seemingly squinting at the witch. how often is gabriella around ashmi? interesting, indeed. clearly a predator more powerful than her enjoys the witch’s company if her scent clings so closely to her. a mark in her favor, certainly.

fluffy tail twitches, and lucrezia seems to consider this new information for a long time. finally, she reaches up and taps gabriella’s cheek with a paw. singular affectionate gesture completed, she settles back down and returns to grooming.

@nexarerum

[thebsunit]

                                    Potential by @thebsunit

                                   A Teen! Reader x bau team fic

     After spending some time with your Zio Rossi, you see Morgan and JJ sparring and ask for a two on one training with them

A/n

Hey! So this is my first fic, and I'm really excited to share this with yall! This idea came up when @stxrryspencer posted and was like “what teen!reader x bau fic should I write?” And I commented a million times and this was one of those comments! So check there's out too! I’m not sure when it’ll be out but soooo much of their writing is good! We had the same basic idea but wrote it differently :) so that's cool! There are a few words that aren't in English (Italian) so I'll add a little translation index and author's notes at the end. 

Potential by @thebsunit

Word count:  3132

“I'm nervous,”

“Don't be,” Spencer told you “besides-”

“Okay but what if Morgan beats the absolute crap out of me,” you interrupted “I asked for a sparring session! He's strong,” 

“Don't be nervous, Y/n,” Emily consoled over a sip of coffee “Morgan probably won't go easy on you. And neither will JJ. But there's a difference between beating somebody up and being pushed past your limits so you'll be able to grow,”

“And besides,” Spencer continued, “In the not at all likely possibility that Morgan beats the absolute crap out of you. Rossi will definitely kill him,”

That much was true, and you pondered over it as Emily gave you pointers. Which flew right over your head. 

You, Spencer, and Emily were spending some quality time together while your Zio Rossi was in a meeting with Hotch. It wasn't a secret that JJ and Morgan were the most athletically inclined out of the team, you knew that after watching a take down (albeit from the safety of the polie cruiser) and seeing Morgan pin the unsub to the ground while JJ pulled out a pair of handcuffs. It was impressive, and you wondered if they had somehow managed to chase the unsub to where you were so you could see everything up close and personal. Later that night, you had asked your Zio Rossi if a training session with the two of them would be a possibility. He said yes, and texted the two of them. Who had enthusiastically agreed. 

Now you were having a coffee with Emily and Spencer. Telling them you had a training session with them the next day, followed by a sparring session that the team was invited to watch. 

“So if there's JJ and Morgan, then you..” Spencer pondered aloud “Who are you fighting with? Surely it's not going to be a two on one battle, that wouldn't be fair at all,”

“Oh! No no, not at all,” Emily and Spencer both looked relieved “What JJ said is that she'll be my personal coach during the spar, not fight. So like.. she'll yell out encouragement and tips and stuff,”

“So it is like a two on one battle!” Emily said

You snorted into your coffee “Yea, I guess. Just not in Morgan's favor,”

“Serves him right! Hey, y/n, just for me, make sure to give him a nice sucker punch in the-”

“Reid!” Emily yelled while you shouted “Spencer!” at the same time

“Kidding, kidding! I’m kidding!” Spencer said as you pelted empty sugar packets at him. 

——

“Are you nervous?” 

Penny was driving you to the boxing gym that your “personal trainers” frequented often. There was a boxing ring, too, and you had briefly wondered if you should have borrowed a pair of gloves. 

“Not really. At least not in the sense that you think I would be. I have the training, and then I’m gonna spar with Morgan. I’m more nervous I’m gonna make a fool of myself in front of people I look up to,” you explained, tightening your ponytail. Which was a nervous habit you had adopted “ask me again in three hours when I'll actually box with Morgan,”

She laughed and glanced over at you before blowing a kiss to the pair of pink fuzzy dice hanging on her rear view mirror “There! A bit of luck for you, darling” 

“Thanks, Penny,” 

You looked down at your knuckles and at the roll of athletic tape that JJ told you to bring. You felt the car come to a stop and looked up to see a bright red fitness center sign. 

“You’re here, sweet cheeks! Wanna text Morgan and JJ you’re here? I think they’re inside warming up a bit. Maybe pulling a few strings to get the place cleared out for fight night!” Penny sensed your nervousness and bought you a few seconds to put it off before you walked in 

“Yea, I’ll text them right now,” you said and pulled out your phone. Texting the groupchat with you, JJ, and Morgan that has been dubbed “the number one rule of fight club..” 

The number one rule of fight club...

Y/n: Hey, I’m here!

JJ: Awesome! Come on in, Morgan got us a private room by flexing at the receptionist 

Morgan: Hey! With guns like these, I can’t just let them go without use. 

Y/n: Hahaha. Okay, I’m coming in right now. I’m in a blue tank top and leggings if you see me before I see you 

JJ: Great, if you get lost ask the receptionist for directions 

Morgan: And don’t hesitate to name drop me, you never know what perks you’ll get if she knows you’re with a god like me ;)

You laughed and grabbed your bag, letting Penny read the thread while you got yourself together. 

“Okay! Let’s go. I’m going, I’m gone!” You yelled over your shoulder at Penny once she passed your phone back to you. 

“Okay, love you!” She responded, blasting Eye of the Tiger from her car window as she drove away. 

You squared your shoulders and walked in. The smell of sweat overpowering your senses. Almost immediately you didn’t know where you were going. So, begrudgingly, you went up to the blonde receptionist who looked way too energetic. 

“Um, hi. Do you know where the private rooms are?”

“Hi, gorgeous! I’m Abby, which room number are you going in to?” She practically yelled at you

“Aw crap. I don’t know which room number it is,” You internally panicked

Then you remembered that Morgan said you could name drop. He probably didn’t give you the number just for that reason

“Sly, dog..” you thought

“Um.. I’m not sure but I’m here with Morgan? Derek Morgan,” you corrected yourself then saw Abby start blushing and leaned over to you

“Oh, Derek, what a handsome young man! Of course, you’re in 2B. Can I get you a water? They’re usually a buck, but if you’re with Derek I’ll let a few ‘go lukewarm’” She whispered the last part and winked at you. 

You smiled. Morgan sure did have something different that got all the ladies to swoon. 

“Yes, please, that would be wonderful. I’ll tell Morgan, that you gave us some,” You collected the water. Condensation pooling on your fingertips and yelled over your shoulder “Thank you, Abby!” 

She winked at you again and pointed you in the direction. 

“Hi guys,” you smiled nervously and held out the waters “Abby gave us waters, I may have name dropped you, Morgan,”

“Haha, nice!” Morgan walked over and gave you a high five “Thank you, Abby,”

“Hi, y/n, want me to wrap your hands for you?” JJ asked

“Yes, please,”

You sat down on a bench and held out your hands, unsure whether to put your palms up or down and trying to ignore the obvious tremor in them. 

Apparently palms up was the correct placement as JJ gently, but securely, wove the tape through your fingers. “So what we're gonna do today is just teach you some of the basics in boxing. That’s what Morgan and I have been properly trained in, and what I think is the most fun-“

She was cut off by Morgan

“Hey, doll face, are you shaking?” He grabbed one of your hands in his own “Don’t be nervous, y/n. We're gonna teach you first. We wouldn't just throw you to the wolves. And even when we do box it out,” he mimed a duck and upper cut “with JJ giving you pointers I’m sure you’re gonna do fine. Even if you don’t manage to beat me,”

“Yea, Y/n. You’re gonna do great, I promise,” She finished taping up your hands and stood up “Okay. We’re gonna teach you the basics in boxing, and then some cardio to get your blood pumping. After we have the ring to ourselves! I'm friends with the owner, so James said we could stay late,” JJ whispered the last part to you

“Learning, cardio, practice, go, got it,” you looked up eagerly at JJ and bounced on your toes “which moves first?”

——-

You genuinely had no idea how Morgan still seemed to be full of so much energy. He was bouncing on his toes and had a look of fire in his eyes as he danced around in front of the mirror. You looked over at JJ who was on her phone. 

“Y/n?” She called to you 

“Mhm?”

“Spencer and Emily want to know if they could come watch us. Garcia said she'll be here in spirit but she loves you and Morgan too much to see either of you at each other,” 

You laughed at Garcia's reasoning “What about Hotch? And Zio Rossi?”

JJ frowned “They really wanted to come, they swear, but Strauss called them in for a last minute meeting. Something about paperwork. They say they're so sorry, but if you let Spencer and Emily come they want them to film it?”

You tried not to let the relief show on your face. It was your dream to work in the FBI and if Hotch, someone with an incredible amount of power (at least to you), saw you get absolutely clobbered you weren't sure if you could ever go back. At least with your pride. 

“That's okay!” You said “Tell Spencer and Emily to come! If Abby's still working ask if they can bring some more waters down, I'm worried I might need the coldness for a makeshift ice pack,”

You didn't want Morgan to hear how nervous you were. It worried you that he might go easy on you when you needed him to push your limits. 

“Got it! I'll text them right now,” JJ turned back to her phone and you watched Morgan hype himself up “Rossi said we can have dinner with everyone at his place, and Spencer and Emily are 10 minutes away,”

“Awesome sauce, thanks JJ,”

“Anytime,”

You unwound your tape, JJ said it would be good to stretch your hands, and you flexed your fingers. Yelling over your shoulder that you were going to the bathroom. 

“One last nervous pee, I got this,” you whispered to yourself

It was about a half hour or so after closing, but the bathrooms were still open. You looked yourself up and down in the mirror and took a breath to steady your nerves. While you were studying your posture JJ walked in. 

“Hey, Morgans already in the ring. Emily and Spencer are there too. I'm gonna give you some pointers, okay?”

You nodded. Splashing your face with cool water and watching JJ through the mirror reflection. 

“Okay. I think this goes without saying but no hits below the belt, no matter how much Reid paid you off,” you laughed out loud and nodded your head “Alright. I'm gonna be telling you pointers but really you're the one in the ring. You're the one that gets final say, does that make sense Y/n?” You nodded your head “Great. So if you want to do something I didn't tell you to, that's totally okay. And I'm not going to be choreographing your entire fight. This isn't a dance routine. Just tips, does that make sense?”

“Mhm, yea. Keep going,”

“Excellent. This is a one round kinda thing, just whoever taps out first loses. I've never really hosted my own boxing match so we're all learning today!”

You nodded. Getting hyped up. 

“Alright. I'm gonna walk you out, you got this. I believe in you. Kick some sweet sweet Morgan Ass,”

“Deal,” You responded. 

You walked out of the bathroom and into the ring, seeing Morgan taping up his fingers, and you mirrored his actions. Once your fingers were taped up you flexed them, and pulled on your boxing gloves. 

“Ready?”

You looked over at JJ and winked “Ready as I'll ever be,”

You climbed into the ring, and into the corner across from Morgan who winked at you. You smiled smugly back and looked over at Spencer and Emily, blowing them a kissy face and a smile. 

JJ called to start the match and you went over to Morgan, keeping your fists up and close to your face. You let Morgan take the first hit and you dodged it, going for a jab on his torso. You hit him and heard your “fans” cheering for you. You fought the urge to look over but in your distraction, Morgan got a cross punch on your torso. You felt the hit but with your adrenaline pumping, if anything, it got you more fired up. Morgan paired his cross punch with a jab. JJ kept yelling encouragement so you wouldn't let go but combined with her yelling, your fan club, and the blood rushing through your ears it all went in one ear and out the other 

“An effective 1-2...” Flitted briefly in your mind. And your eyes went to his. Open face.. “Rookie mistake!”

He left his face unprepared for just a second too long and you took the hit. You threw a hook across his face and Morgan went down. Obviously not seeing just how vulnerable he left himself. 

“Oh shit!” Emily yelled and you dropped your stance immediately. 

“Morgan! Oh crap, Morgan Morgan Morgan!” You held your hands up to your face. Not to shield yourself, but out of shock (and maybe a little bit of pride) at your hit. “Morgan Morgan, Morgan I am so sorry! Oh my god are you okay?” You looked over at JJ who looked incredibly impressed and then over at Spencer and Emily. Who had definitely just passed a ten dollar bill between them. 

“Doll face,” Your eyes snapped to Morgan “Y/n, I'm okay. That was a good hit, I didn't realize how good you were at boxing! And you swear you've never taken classes?”

You smiled. Glad that he was okay “I haven't-” a thought crossed your mind “Holy smokes did I win!”

A playful groan passed Morgan's lips. And JJ stepped into the ring to announce Morgan's defeat. 

“Holy crap I won! I beat Derek Morgan SSA of the FBI in a boxing match!” You laughed out loud and JJ held up your hand in a proper victory stance. “Spencer! Emily! I won!”

Emily and Spencer both laughed and gave you a high five. You glanced over and saw Morgan pressing a still cool water bottle to the side of his face. 

Morgan walked his way over to you and that was really when you felt bone dog tired. “Good job, kid,” He smiled and put his arm around your shoulder taking a look at the group “Can't believe a teenager rocked my shit..” he almost mumbled to himself. 

-----

“Oh my chocolate thunder..!” You heard Penny yell. Once she saw Morgan’s face her shock was well written “Does it hurt?” 

Penny went to fetch him a fresh bag of frozen peas, when you popped up. Already holding a steadily defrosting bag of frozen veggies. 

“I actually think his ego is a lot more bruised than his eye. Hi penny. I hope you aren't too upset that I hurt Morgan..” you trailed off. Now worried that you were going to make her upset. 

“Oh not at all, my little boxing champion! This nice tall glass of water can take a hit, I'm proud of you, y/n/n, really,” Penny smiled at you and took a reach for your veggies

You gave them to her with a smile and waved goodbye. Off to see how your Zio was doing. 

“Passerotto!” Your Zio Rossi spotted you before you did and engulfed you in a hug. He pressed a kiss on to your forehead and smoothed a bit of your hair back against your head “I saw what you did to Morgan! I asked Emily if they got a video but they said they were so wrapped up in the atmosphere they weren't able to. But I think you can elaborate enough for us, no?”

You smile and shook your head “In all honesty, I barely even remember. I guess the adrenaline in it all really got a way from me,” What actually happened was you were way too embarrassed to go into detail about you clocking one of Hotch’s finest co workers in front of him “I bet Spencer could help you fill in the blanks!”

“You know, Y/n..” Hotch said “I didn't know you were able to pack such a punch. If it would be okay with your parents and Uncle here, I have a friend that runs a self defense clinic at the Academy if you'd like some more work. I think you'd be a nice fit,”

With Hotch being a man of few words (and even fewer emotions) his slight compliment filled you with pride. “Thank you, Hotch” you smiled at him “I didn't know I had it in me either! I'll ask my parents about the clinic, but I doubt I'd stay long enough here to be a valuable member. Maybe as a summer program!” You added

Zio Rossi's oven’s beeping cut you off short. He went to tend to his lasagna, your favorite, and waved you all to seat yourselves at the table. You found yourself sandwiched between Spencer and Emily at the circular dining table. Out of all the dining areas in your Zio Rossi's mansion, this was your favorite for family meals. You were able to really look at one another. With your company next to you, you felt a little short and maneuvered yourself so you were sitting on your legs. Giving yourself an extra few inches of height that made you look a lot more sophisticated if you do say so yourself (which you did). Spencer glanced at your wiggling and wrote you a note in the little journal he always kept with him. 

“I used to do the same thing,” it read and you looked at him and smiled as he winked. 

Almost like magic Zio Rossi appeared holding a very large dish with a gorgeous lasagna in it. You were passed the salad bowl and filled your plate with it. Careful not to let it touch with your other side dishes. You took a sip of lemonade from your wine glass that matched Spencer's. Spencer didn't drink and neither did you. (Although often you would steal a sip of your Zio’s glass “as long as you don't tell your parents,”)

“So Morgan..” your Zio Rossi started once everyone's food was dished out “How does it feel to get.. pardon me if I phrase this wrong, but, absolutely served by my nipote?”  

The table erupted with laughter and you found yourself again beaming with pride. 

“Hey I gotta say, the kids got potential.” Morgan smiled and held out his glass to you “To Y/n!”

“To Y/n!” The rest of the table cheered. 

-----

Translation Index and Author's Note

Hey! Thank you soooo much for reading! I'm really proud of this, and I hope you guys like it! Always open for requests and critiques!

Zio - Uncle

Since the reader was probably brought up with some Italian, they refer to Rossi, their uncle, as Zio. Which is Italian for Uncle. While the rest of the team just calls him “your uncle Rossi” they understand Zio but never really fit right with them. It's yours and your Zio Rossi's little thing

Nipote - Niece/Nephew

Nipote is a gender neutral term for niece or nephew. It can be distinguished with further describing words (Ex. “Mia Bella nipote”, my beautiful niece or “Mio nipote” my nephew) it's like Spanish! 

Passeretto - Little Sparrow

Passeretto is a name used by someone's “Guardian” when their younger influence is growing up and “spreading their wings” (like a Sparrow). I used this as Zio Rossi's affectionate nickname because the reader is learning/learned how to properly box. 

Again, thank you so much for reading. It really means a lot! ¡Besitos! 

~Romeo

[queenlua]

salty hugo nominee 2020 reviews: short stories

under a cut because long, etc

ranked roughly from “shit that made me the most annoyed” to “shit that made me the least annoyed”:

A Catalog of Storms by Fran Wilde

God did this ever not work for me.  It must’ve worked for someone, I guess?  To be nominated?  But, what?

Look, the story was already on thin fucking ice when I was halfway through and I noticed the narrative wasn’t going much of anywhere.  Then the storms started getting names like A Leaving and A Grieving and A Loss That’s Probably Your Fault and I rolled my eyes so far back into my skull that I had to wait a while for them to re-correct themselves so I could finish reading the damn thing.  AN OVERWROUGHT AND NOT-EVEN-THAT-EVOCATIVE METAPHOR IS NOT A STORY, I want to nail on the office door of A Certain Subset Of Acquisitions Editors.

Ten Excerpts from an Annotated Bibliography on the Cannibal Women of Ratnabar Island by Nibedita Sen

Sigh.

Look, I know why everyone wants metafiction to be good.  I’m a sucker for the meta and the contrary and the self-referential and the circuitous.  In college I convinced some poor sucker of a professor to let me submit some horrifying 80-page metafictional thing about Andrew Johnson being a piece of shit, told via (among other things) histograms, MSN Messenger group chats, excerpts from a 2100 reactionary Civil War novel that does not exist, strangely erotically-charged letters between Johnson and various southern governors, excerpts from an anthropology textbook published in 2400 that also does not exist, and so on and so forth.  That shit was delightful to write, so I get it, I do.

But I also don’t ask anyone to read my 80-page metafictional thing (except that poor professor, bless their soul), because when I reread it later, it wasn’t a story.  Parts of it were an excuse to show off my own cleverness.  Parts of it were almost a story—but I either couldn’t be assed to fill the full thing out, or I didn’t quite know how to full the thing out, or I just didn’t have the ballsiness to do so.  Alas.

So, okay.  In waltzes this particular story, a metafictional thingy told via excerpts from various books and websites.

And while this one didn’t enrage me with its mediocrity the way, say, STET did last year (an angry Facebook post that was only barely pretending to be a story), it also just isn’t much of a story.  Weird spooky cannibal shit happens.  Feminists be fightin’ with each other about intersectionality.  Sure.  But I feel like that’s just Tuesday afternoon on my Tumblr feed, not a proper story.

(I would be delighted to read a metafiction-y story that does manage to work for me, by the way.  Hit me up with your best quirky metafiction-y shit.  But this one wasn’t it.)

And Now His Lordship is Laughing by Shiv Ramdas

It’s like, fine.  The prose is good.  The right motions are made, mechanics-wise.  There’s just not that much to the story.

This is actually a problem with most of the stuff I’m reading in SF/F zines these days.  The prose is good, the prose is always reasonably good, and sometimes it’s so good I’d chop off my left pinky to be able to write some of the phrases they do.  But the story part, too often, ends up being a nothingburger with nothingsauce.  It’s obvious from the start that the colonial government is going to be horrid; it’s obvious from the start that Apa’s going to use some trick to get her vengeance; the only question is how.  And the how wasn’t especially evocative or thrilling, to me.

Blood is Another Word for Hunger by Rivers Solomon

Y’know, this one is weird.  You get a lot of points for being weird.  It’s not quite Philip K. Dick levels of weird, and it could’ve benefitted from that level of weird.  Like, if Sully’s gonna give birth to a bunch of previously-dead folks, I’d expect them to do some kinda weird shit, rather than just some amicable homesteading and then some Sully-planned murder, right?

What’s here is reasonably fun but I ache thinking about how much weirder and cooler it could’ve been.

Do Not Look Back, My Lion by Alix. E Harrow

This one was actually pretty solid adventure fantasy.  Actually, it sort of gets me in a mindset of wondering—do I ask too much of SF/F short fiction?  Like, I look at the Hugo nominees each year, and I’m always hoping to have my mind blown, my world rocked, and so on.  But I dunno, the English-speaking SF/F world is only so big, my mind can only be blown so many times, and maybe something can just be a good romp & that’s perfectly deserving of an award on its own.

It does some stuff with gender, sure, and that bit’s pretty fun, but mostly it’s a cool story.  Recommended if you’re into warrior chicks and/or healer chicks and/or those dating each other.

(BCS, as a venue, seems to select for a lot of this sort of thing.  It’s not always revolutionary but it’s also always a story and I appreciate the shit out of that.)

As the Last I May Know by S.L. Huang

So we have a blatant ethics-of-nuclear-war metaphor going on.  Lil’ trite and/or unsexy now that the Cold War’s over, but, well, the horrible threat of nuclear war never really went away, right?  We just decided to ignore it in favor of other looming apocalypses.  So sure, let’s ride.

I liked Tej in this story; I liked Otto Han; I liked how full a sense of their characters was evoked in such a small space.  Something about Nyma didn’t quite land for me, though, and I can’t put a finger on why.  I get why she’s relatively non-agenic, I understand the concerns and fears that drive her, but I just wanted something... more?

I dunno.  Maybe I’m nitpicking.  It was alright; I wanted more than alright.

Also, an ending like this is like when pop songs do that radio-edit lazy-fade-into-silence ending.  C’mon, commit!  The only time you get to do an ~ambiguous~ ending like this is when you’re writing “The Lady or the Tiger” and you want some middle school English class and/or some book club to argue ferociously over it.  But endings are what elevate things from thought experiments to real stories; it’s the moment you gotta say, yeah, this is a thing about the world that I know and believe to be true.

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Ch. II: Solitary Tiger Shark

My mom and dad were the coolest! They watch penguins all day and go visit Santa Claus! They even let me come and see penguins with them, but they said I couldn’t see Santa because he was too busy. That’s okay! Maybe next year!

“Mom! Dad! Can we go see Santa now?” I jumped up, tugged on their coats, but they kept working! Such hard workers!

“Not today, sweetie,” dad told me. Mom turned to him.

“When are we going to tell her that we’re here to study penguins?”

“Shh. She’s only 8.”

Those two sure were silly. They still thought they could trick me, as if I was really that dumb. I knew they were just using the penguin thing as an excuse so they could see Santa by themselves.

“Can I study penguins with you guys?” I tugged at their coats. They turned to each other again.

“Should we? Is it really safe for a little kid?”

“She should be fine as long as she wears a coat.”

“It could be good for her to get outside.”

They said taking me to their ‘arctic base’ thingy could be good for me, too, and it was good until I got bored! It was neat to see all the rooms, but they were mostly empty, locked, or full of toys I couldn’t play with. My parents didn’t know what the word ‘good’ meant sometimes.

“We have to see the penguins!” I shouted. Sometimes I had to be mom and dad’s parents. “It’s good for me!”

They gave each other a look. I think it was a good one? I don’t know. But then they looked at me and it looked mad, but then they said:

“Okay. Later, okay?”

Later! I wonder when that would be!

Just a few minutes later, I went back up to them.

“It’s later!”

“No, sweetie, we meant, like, tomorrow later.”

“What?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Promise.”

After that, I think I threw a fit and then I hugged a penguin. But it wasn’t a real one, just a stuffed animal one. But I went right to sleep and tomorrow came and we went out to see real penguins together!

That’s as much as I remembered. I don’t know what happened when we went out, but now I was inside somewhere else. Maybe they took me to a surprise place?

I tried to open my eyes, but I was still tired. It seemed like I was sleeping on a chair. There was a blanket over me. Not one I knew. The blanket on me was itchy. My blankets weren’t itchy.

Adult voices came in, but they weren’t my parents. Maybe mom and dad were busy.

“Why do you want me to take care of her? I’m just a hermit!”

“And a hunter.”

“Yes. I hunt for food and I’m a hermit. I’m a loner. Let me be.”

“Come on, this could be a good experience for you.”

There’s that ‘could be good for you’ thing again. Were they talking about a penguin?

“You should take care of her. My home is hardly suitable for a child.”

“And mine is? Do you know the types of people who show up here?”

“Don’t you have a daughter? Send her to live with your daughter.”

“I don’t need to burden Sunny’s sister with another child.”

“How despicable. You won’t even raise your own child.”

“Fair. Very fair. But I still put the burden on you. As they say, finder’s keeper’s.”

I worked my way up until I sat up on the chair. I rubbed my eyes, they still felt droopy. Then, after a yawn, I asked the two weird adults:

“Are mom and dad busy?”

“Fuck. She’s awake,” the thin haired man with glasses said. His clothes made him look like a penguin, but he wasn’t chubby. Skinny penguin?

“Hey, language!” The tall lady with all the cool action figure clothes spoke. She sure looked like an action figure!

“Fuck!” I repeated.

She grabbed the man by the top of his penguin clothes.

“Look what you did!”

He laughed, but I wasn’t sure why, so I laughed too.

“That’s the spirit! Take good care of her!” He said while laughing.

She let go of him and went over to me. She had a mean look on her face, like a scowl. Was I in trouble? No. I didn’t do anything. She bent down and sat on her knees. I tilted my head. She looked funny.

“You’re probably confused right now.”

“Yeah! Fuck!”

“Stop saying that,” she growled.

Aw, she was no fun.

“Anyway, your parents are dead and you almost died, too.”

“You really aren’t good at talking to people, are you, Remora?” The penguin man called to her. That was going to be his name now! The penguin man!

“Don’t see any reason to lie. They were found dead not far from here. There was a blizzard.”

Huh? That was random. I stared at the weird action figure lady, waiting for her to say something else. She stared back at me.

“Well?”

I’m not sure what she was doing. Just staring at me like that.

“Well...well?” I asked back. She began to shiver. “Hey Ray!” She yelled at the penguin man. “Can you turn the heater up? It’s chilly in here!”

“It’s already as hot as it can go. I’m roasting in here, myself.”

“Must be the topic at hand giving me the chills,” she muttered.

“So penguin man is Ray! Are you Ray, too?”

She turned her head at penguin Ray and gave him a look. He laughed like a hyena.

“Well? Are you Ray?”

He copied me!

“Shut up,” she looked back at me. “I’m Remora. I found you and took you back.”

“Back to the base? But I wanted to see the penguins!”

She gave Ray another look. He shrugged his shoulders. Then she looked back at me and blew some air out her mouth.

“It would help if I explained what happened, wouldn’t it?”

She began to tell me a story:

“The door burst open; I charged my way back to the other side of the diner.

‘Whoa! Remora! What are you doing here?’ Ray came over. Then he saw you, so I told him:

‘I found her lying on the ground! Tell me you can do something!’

‘What is this about? I thought you didn’t care about kids.’ Was what he said in response. For the record, I don’t like kids, but that was beside the point. That man was going to make me go berserk, I just knew it.

‘That’s not important right now!’ I shouted at him.

I you down on a sofa and watched as you shivered. My heart was racing, more than if had I gone to fight with a polar bear”

(I liked that part. I wanted to fight a polar bear)

“Ray walked over to check you out.

‘Hypothermia. Possible pneumonia,’ he told me.

‘We need to take her to a hospital!’

‘How?’ He asked me. ‘The nearest hospital is several miles away and we have no way to get there. If you try walking her there in the cold, she will surely die by the time you get there.’

‘Don’t say that!’ I yelled at him.

He paced. He seemed more curious than concerned.

‘I’m surprised to see you so emotional about something like this. Aren’t you normally more...cold?’ He asked.

‘This is different. Please.’

‘It’s not a matter that can be solved by begging. I’d love to help, but I don’t think there’s anything I could do. I’m no doctor.’

‘Get a doctor! You have connections, don’t you?’

He removed his glasses and began wiping them with a cloth. He didn’t look my way.

‘Tell me how you found her.’

I explained to him that I found you underneath a sheet of ice. I was surprised to still feel a pulse, so I thought that there could have been some chance that you would survive if I took her here.

He looked down at the floor. His fists shook. Then he turned to me and said,

‘I see.’

‘I’ll join you and your wife’s team, if that’s what you want! Just do something!’

He nodded. ‘It would be disrespectful of me to make you do something like that in exchange for saving a life,’ he smiled as he spoke. ‘I’ll see if I can get someone over here. Stay with her for the time being.’

‘What am I supposed to do?!’ I demanded.

‘Try keeping her warm,’ was his advice, before walking off.

‘What about you? Where are you going?’ I asked him. He turned to me.

‘I have to confirm something.’

I shivered. The chill ran over me once again and I was flung back into the state of awareness over who I was. There you were, and you just looked like a foreign object, shivering and unconscious. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. Then, Ray returned for a moment to say:

‘Oh, and Remora, I know why you’re doing this.’ Then he left for a while, leaving me along with you without a clue in the world.

I didn’t say anything in response to that.

As he left, I turned to you, still shivering, still unconscious. I shivered as well.

‘Please make it…’ I whispered.

Your hair reminded me of a tiger stripe, or a flicker of a flame. If you could be as warm as one, I wouldn’t need to worry as much. But at the time, I was worried. I hated to see you shiver, it reminded me too much of myself.

After a few minutes of staying by your side, Ray returned with a doctor.

‘She owed me a favor for fulfilling one of her requests,’ he explained to me.

I was just glad to see someone who could actually do something.

I got off of the couch while the doctor observed you. I stood, frozen, my teeth chattering, and watched. Ray shook his head.

‘I found her parents. Frozen solid. Succumbed to the elements,’ he told me.

‘So she has no one now,’ was my response.

‘Hey, don’t look so glum,’ he nudged me. ‘If you hadn’t brought her, she may not have made it, either.’

‘But why her and not her parents?’ I asked him. ‘Wouldn’t a child be more vulnerable than an adult?’

‘I don’t know, Remora. Strange things happen around these parts,’ he replied.

We stood and watched the doctor examine you, until finally, she got up and told us:

‘She’s okay for now. I would suggest keeping her here and turning up the heat. Keep her inside as much as she can. There’s still no guarantee, so continue to monitor, and if her condition starts to worsen, contact me. I’ll send a vehicle to take her to the hospital.’

‘Thank you, Shirley,’ Ray replied.

‘Please. It’s Dr. Cole-Slaw now,’ the doctor corrected.” I snorted at that part. Coleslaw! Someone’s a coleslaw doctor! Remora continued her story, but I hoped it wasn’t much longer. It wasn’t very good.

“The doctor took her leave. Ray made a comment about how you were still breathing, in turn, I said that there was still a chance you wouldn’t make it.

He smiled and told me, ‘you did a good thing today. Regardless of what happens, I think you should give yourself a pat on the back.’

All I could think about was how you were shivering. The thought crossed my mind that even if you did get better, but continued to shiver, maybe it would have been better had you not survived. I must have voiced that thought, because Ray said:

‘Remora, you were a special case. You were an infant when you were found.’

Ray walked out of the hall and into one of the rooms. It was in the far back hallway. When he returned, he had brought out a blanket. He spread it across you and tucked you in, then told me:

‘It may take a few days for her to get better. You should stay here for the time being. I’ll serve us up a meal.’

I agreed to that, and while you slept, the two of us discussed what should be done about you. Adoption agencies? Foster care? We still hadn’t come to a solution by the time you woke up.”

That wasn’t a very nice story! There were no penguins at all!

My eyes got a bit tingly. I was going to cry, wasn’t I?

“Cry if you need to,” she sounded like she was telling me what to do. I always hated being told what to do, and the way she made it sound, grr…but I did it! I didn’t want to! She made me! It was all over my face and gross and it wouldn’t stop and everything was so weird! There was no penguins! I couldn’t remember any penguins.

“That didn’t really happen, did it?” I asked her.

Remora nodded. “You wouldn’t be here if it didn’t.”

Penguin man Ray gave me a napkin.

“Careful not to overwork her, Remora. She’s still recovering.”

He smiled awful wide. My parents weren’t here. They were somewhere in the snow. Was there snow? I wanted to see them. I knew I couldn’t. I wasn’t dumb! I was just forgetful! So forgetful that I couldn’t remember what happened!

I started shivering and my head got real dizzy. My head fell back to the cushion. It felt like ice cubes were dumped on me and that I would disappear.

“Hey! Ray! Do something! Get her some soup!”

Why was everything so weird?

It felt like the weird stuff was going to go on forever. I was scared.

“Can we get her to warm up? Please?” She sounded scared too.

My eyes started closing, but then I opened them again and there was a bowl and tray next to me.

“Whoa…” I whispered because I was still weak. Did that appear out of nowhere? Was I magical?

Fancy penguin man took a spoon and held it up to my mouth. “Open wide, okay?” His voice sounded so bright. Like a sun!

I opened my mouth, but before I could swallow, the metal from the spoon hit my tongue and I coughed.

“Too hot!”

Remora gave a little laugh.

“Glad to see she can still feel heat.”

I didn’t think that was very funny! Not funny at all! Just rude!

I scowled. She gave a look like I was the weird one! That only made me madder, and I crossed my arms.

But don’t worry. The soup didn’t get cold! I still ate it and Ray was very proud of me! He said so!

So a few days later, after I was all better, I went to stay at Remora’s house. She really didn’t want to, but Ray said Remora has plenty of fun things at her house and I got so excited that Remora gave in! I just hoped she had a nice, fluffy penguin plushy for me to hug!

Once I went outside, I felt the wind blow and my coat didn’t feel too strong! My sink was doing weird pink and purple and white colors! Remora decided to give me a piggyback ride. She said it would be faster that way! She was right, too! She was real fast! Even though I was still dizzy and not good, the journey went okay! For some reason, I thought her back would be cold, but it was really warm and that made me happy.

When we went into her house, which looked like both an igloo and a brick house, I knew it: Ray lied to me! That liar! Remora’s house wasn’t fun at all!

It was so dark and there were spider webs and it was so cold and there weren’t any stuffed penguins, either! There were some old books, there was a dirty kitchen, but there weren’t any toys or TV! It was boring! And again! It was cold!

“It’s cold!” I yelled.

“Yes. Yes it is.” She blinked. “Sorry, I’ll go prepare the fireplace.”

“What? There’s a fireplace!”

I didn’t see a chimney, but I also wasn’t looking at the roof! I knew what to do! Go outside and see the chimney! But before I could reach the door, Remora called out to me.

“You’re still not all better. Not a good idea.”

“Not fair!” I slammed my foot.

“Never said it was.”

I puffed my cheeks. She didn’t budge, just waved her finger at me. So I crossed my arms and went over to a chair and jumped up on it.

“It’s so boring in here!”

“I’m a boring person.”

“You’re not going to have many people over if you don’t have things to do!”

“That’s the idea.”

The fire burned in the fireplace and I warmed up, but the house itself was so dark, even after she lit some candles.

She was in the kitchen. I think it was a kitchen. It was where kitchens usually were. By the living room.

“What’cha doing?”

“Cooking up some fish. Do you like fish?”

“I don’t know! I think I do!”

She brought me a plate of fish. I grabbed a handful and shoved it in my mouth. Then I spit it out.

“I don’t like fish,” I crossed my arms.

“We’ll just have to find something else, then.”

She went back into the kitchen. From out of view, she yelled.

“By the way: there’s many kinds of fish. You probably like something.”

She walked back into the living room, holding two plates. She handed one to me. It was some kind of sandwich. I decided to take a bite and it was delicious.

“What is this?” I asked.

“It’s an elk burger. Lettuce, tomatoes, elk meat.”

“Elk? What’s that?”

She made a gesture like she was trying to show she had antlers.

“You ate Santa’s reindeer?!”

“What?”

“That’s a reindeer! They have antlers!”

“So do elk. They’re different.”

“Oh. Okay.” I learned something new.

“Besides,” she added. “Santa isn’t real.”

“I knew that!”

I took another bite of the elk burger. “How did you get this?” I asked.

“I killed an elk and cooked it.”

So scary! So cool!

“I wanna do that too!”

“Maybe later. When you get better.”

Later, later, later! That word always meant no!

“Promise! And don’t die!”

“Sure,” she said, then took a bite from her plate. It didn’t look like an elk burger. It looked like a salad with that gross fish in it.

“What do you do for fun around here, anyway?”

“Go out and hunt. Clean my weapons. Go fishing. Paint my nails. Apply eye shadow. Read books. Explore the area.”

“I want to do all that too, then!”

“When you’re better.”

“I’m better now! Let’s do it!”

“It’s already late.”

I puffed my cheeks.

“Fine! But after dinner you must tell me a bedtime story!”

She didn’t say anything, but ate her food.

You better not hold out on me, action figure lady!

After dinner, she took the plates and we sat on the floor together, next to the fireplace. She pulled out a book from a small shelf of hers. It was called The Little Match Girl.

“This is a good one. From the author of The Little Mermaid.”

My eyes grew wide! I couldn’t wait!

She started reciting the story. Just like back at Ray’s place, she was not a good storyteller. Her voice was too flat and she talked like everything was so plain. But still, the story was neat. It started out sad, but it was like a fairy tale, so it must have gotten better by the end! I was so sure of it!

“So, in the end, the girl was found frozen, the matches extinguished. Little did the onlookers know that she had joined her grandmother in heaven.”

She closed the book and I started to break down into tears.

“That was so sad!”

“It was a good story, no? She finally got her wish and got to see her grandmother again.”

“Yeah, but she died and her dad was mean and no one would buy her matches and she must have been so cold and no one was nice to her and…” I wasn’t sure what else.

“I don’t understand. She got what she wanted.”

It felt like I just ruined her favorite book for her. That’s probably what I did. But I couldn’t help myself, it was too sad! I ran down the hall and into a bedroom. It wasn’t a super comfy bed, but it had a lot of blankets. There wasn’t much besides the bed in the room, but at least I had somewhere warm to sleep.

She came into the room and told me goodnight. It couldn’t tell if she meant it or if it was just her way of saying sorry, but I was too tired to argue.

I was asleep for a little bit, but I was woken up by my dream. Though it wasn’t really.

Mom and dad and me went out, doing some researching. I saw a cool rock on the ground, they walked ahead. It went a little like that. We never did get to see the penguins. They were so far out, and dad said something about how weird it was that they weren’t at their usual spot. Mom said we should walk further.

It was going pretty good. I saw some bunnies and some foxes, but they all ran past me before I could pet them. Dad said I shouldn’t try. They could have bit me.

The air started to get foggy and it was getting harder to see. Mom and dad said we should turn back, and I was real sad, but so was dad. He was so sure they would be there. I think he liked them, too.

It was too hard to see on the way back. I think we were lost. It was so cold it felt like my bones would go stiff. Frost was getting on mom and dad’s faces. But it wasn’t so bad until the wind blew and knocked us all down, into the hard, snowy ground.

It hurt, it hurt real bad. Snow kept falling, but it didn’t feel like snow. It felt like rocks being thrown at us.

We all managed to get up, but not for long.

It kept going down harder and harder and…

...I woke up.

The fireplace was still making noises. The glow must have woken me up. So I tiptoed out of bed, into the halls. It was a little chilly, but I managed. I was all better, I was sure of it.

She sat in the living room next to the fire and shivered. I watched her pull out a match. Where? Her pocket? The floor?

She lit the tip in the fireplace and pressed the matchstick up to her palm. She continued to shiver. I wanted to yell something out, but I must have been too tired. I just walked back into bed where I managed to get back to sleep.

Well, Remora wasn’t a liar! She was rude and boring but she wasn’t a liar!

She took me fishing and it was really boring but then she told me of all the different kinds of fish under the ice.

“You could even catch a walrus, or a shark,” she said.

“Shark!” My eyes lit up. I was going to catch a shark!

That didn’t happen. Even after being there for the whole day, there was no bite on my end. Remora got all sorts of neat things. Salmons and trouts and um…other ones!

It took me a few days, but I caught something. She had to help me reel it in, but I’d get strong enough to do it myself, eventually. I wanted to catch a big shark!

For my first catch, it was just a tiny thing. Something called a smelt.

“Hey, don’t look so sad. You can still eat smelt.”

“I bet they taste gross!” I said back to her.

“They might. I’d suggest eating them cooked.”

“So we go to Ray’s and have him cook it for us!”

“Excuse me? I can cook fish at home.”

“Yeah, but you only cook gross things.”

“You seemed to like my elk burgers.”

“Okay. One thing isn’t gross.”

She laughed. Weird as ever. Didn’t she know I was serious?

“One day, I’m going to catch a shark! A whale shark!”

“Why?” She asked me.

“Because!”

“Why?”

“Because, they’re, uh, cool! And big!”

“Would you eat one?”

I shook my head. “No! I’ll wrestle them and then throw them back in the water!”

She laughed again.

“I will! I’ll have great big muscles! Whale muscles!”

“Keep hanging around me and maybe you’ll get there.”

I was pretty sure she didn’t believe me. Yeah. That word. ‘Maybe’. It sure meant ‘no’. Just like ‘later’.

“You sure like sharks, don’t you?” Remora stopped and asked.

“I like penguins! But I don’t wanna wrestle penguins! Only pet!”

“I see. We can see penguins sometime, too.”

“But not if we both die!”

She shook her head. “You’re right. I’ll have to make sure you’re as strong as a shark so you can see penguins any time you want.”

“Yeah! And maybe if we go back to base, I can find my stuffed animal penguin!”

She stopped talking.

“What?” I asked. I didn’t like her being quiet. Not that she wasn’t when she was talking.

“You were from there, weren’t you? Someone might know you and they could take you in.”

“Take me in?”

“So you can live in a proper home.”

“You’re fine enough! You’re just boring, that’s all!”

We walked back to her house. Yep. Her boring house. Didn’t even get to stop at Ray’s place. He could have cooked something good with smelt. He could make anything gross taste good, I bet!

“If I find this base and I ask anyone there if they’ve seen your stuffed animal, I’ll bring it to you,” Remora said. It wasn’t a for sure thing, but she wasn’t lying, because it was her. Remoras don’t lie.

“You could! Then I could sleep better!”

“You don’t sleep well?”

“I have bad dreams, but they happened.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay!”

“If I go there, and I find someone, who should I ask?”

“I don’t know! I only ever talked to mom and dad!”

“Well, I can say ‘have you seen a stuffed animal that belongs to this little girl?’”

“No, because I have a name! It’s…” Weird. I knew everything else, but the name wasn’t coming to me. “It’s...something...it begins with a…”

“How about Tigershark?”

“Why?”

“Because your hair reminds me of a tiger’s fur and you like sharks.”

I grinned. “Okay! I’ll be a Tigershark! Grr!”

It was weird being given a name, but Remora was weird already and she was right: I wanted to be big and strong, just like a Tigershark would! I could swim in the coldest seas and be scary and then sleep at the bottom with all the sand and I would only have good dreams. So even though Tigershark wasn’t my name before, I was happy with the name.

That night she didn’t read any bedtime stories. That’s okay since she probably only had the same few things to read. Plus they were all such sad stories. No good for someone who wants a good sleep. Instead of a story, she told me:

“I’m going to go out for the night. I’ll try looking for the base. I’ll be back before you wake up in the morning.”

“But it’s so dark. How will you manage? And what if it gets all foggy and windy?”

“It’s not my first time venturing at night.”

That didn’t make me feel any better, but she had to keep her word. If she said she wouldn’t die, then she wouldn’t die. That was the rule.

I slept without any bad dreams or waking up in the night. Even though there was no fire lit, I wasn’t too cold. It was good. In the morning, she returned with the penguin stuffed animal. I was so happy to see it again! But it was sad, too. It was missing an eye and there was some stuffing falling out. Remora said she could sew it back together, but it I wanted to hold it and she couldn’t fix it if I held it, but she just didn’t get it! It was too precious and I worked myself up into a fit again.

She didn’t seem to react to my fit. She gave me a pat on my head, but didn’t say anything. I asked if she saw anyone there. She nodded, but didn’t say who or what anyone said to her.

I found out what happened a couple days later when we went to see Ray. We walked all the way there and I could do it just fine. I was getting to be quite ‘adept’, whatever that meant. Remora said it, so it must have meant I was good. Not only that, but I ran up to his restaurant carrying a trout on my back.

“Penguin Ray! Look!” I showed him the fish and almost slapped him with it.

“Why am I a penguin?” He asked.

“Your clothes!”

“It’s just a normal pinstripe suit.”

“I don’t know what that means!”

“Hey kiddo, go ahead and take that inside and I’ll make a nice stew for you.”

“It better not be gross!”

“Oho, I’ll be sure to use lots and lots of seasoning!”

I ran inside, but I noticed Remora stayed outside. It looked like she was going to talk to him, so I threw the fish on the table and I pressed my ear to the wall.

“I checked out that base she said she was from the other night,” I heard her say.

“Yeah? Maybe she could go to a better home.”

“Are you saying mine is bad?”

“No, you’ve been doing great! But you said it yourself, didn’t you? Your home is hardly suitable for a child.”

“Yes, well...there’s a problem.”

“What?”

“There were people, but none of them were alive. Just piles of corpses littered throughout. The base itself was pretty wrecked. Whatever happened, it wasn’t pretty.”

“Yikes. I doubt it was the cause of a snowstorm. Think an animal broke in?”

“That is a possibility, but the marks were unlike anything I had seen. I don’t know what kind of animal, weapon, person, could have done that.”

“It could have been a person, huh?”

“I’m not ruling it out. Do you know anything about said base?”

“Mm...I’ve had researchers stop in to order pancakes and the like. I’ve seen many bases on my travels, as well.”

“It could have been a premeditated attack.”

“Oh, I have no doubt it was. I don’t even have to picture the scene. There are some terrible people out there.”

“Are you one of them?”

“Only a little less terrible than you,” he laughed. “But I have a reputation of my own. If I was found out to be a killer, it would tarnish my image.”

“You could have hired someone.”

“I could have, you’re right. Easy enough to do. Hang around the diner enough and you’ll see plenty of shady individuals. But as plausible of an idea as that is, I’m afraid bloodshed just isn’t my cup of tea. I love people too much. Good and bad.”

“Aren’t you worried?”

“Oh, that depends on how unusual it is.”

“If it were usual, it would be more than a cause of concern for me. I need to know what happened there.”

“Are you willing to put in a request?”

“I have the cash.”

He laughed.

“How about you fulfill a request from me and we’ll call it even?”

“Deal. What do you have in mind?”

“Take your pick.”

The door opened and I jumped from my seat and got up.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Remora asked.

“Leaves dropping?” I asked.

“Eaves.”

“I don’t know what that is!”

Ray smiled his warm smile. “Did you hear us?”

“No! No way! I was sitting down with my fish!”

“Doesn’t matter if you were. We were using a lot of adult words. You wouldn’t have been able to understand.”

Those dumb adults. I understood most of what was said. Pretty sure it was something bad.

Ray took the fish and brought it with him into the kitchen. I hummed to myself and skipped along to the back of the diner where the cool place was. Remora went along too.

I jumped into a chair next to the weird thing in the middle of the place. The chair spun around and made me dizzy, but in a fun way.

Soon, Ray showed up, too.

“Hey! Ray! Guess what? Remora’s teaching me how to hunt!”

“Oh, she is, is she?”

“Yeah! I’m going to be big and strong and fight monsters!”

“Remora, what are you thinking?” Ray asked as if Remora was in trouble. Remora sat on the couch and said with her blank face, “just as Tigershark said. She’s going to be big and strong.”

“Tigershark?”

“That’s me!” I shot my hand up.

Ray laughed a big laugh. “That’s a good name.” But he went back to looking mad right after.

“Remora, seriously? She’s just a little kid.”

“She needs to learn to survive in case anything happens.”

“You’re going to endanger her.”

“Only if you phrase it like that.”

“Stop fighting, you two! I like danger!” I yelled. That way they could stop being dumb adults.

Ray rolled his eyes.

“Not everyone is you, Remora.”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t want anyone to be.”

“That’s what I thought. That you didn’t want her to turn out like you. That’s why you were so relieved when she lived and when she tasted hot soup. But then why are you trying to make her like you?”

“Wanting someone to be strong is not the same thing as trying to make them like you.”

“Suit yourself. I trust your judgment.”

“Do you?”

He laughed. “I don’t need to. Because I’ve figured the perfect request for you.”

“Oh?”

“Oh!” I raised my hand. “Can I have a request, too?”

“Sure,” Ray smiled. “I would like you to run around the restaurant and clean off all the gum under the tables.”

“Free food!” I cheered.

“As for you, Remora, I would like you to go on a bit of a vacation.”

“Excuse me?”

“Down to the Midwestern United States, there’s a city which is said to house a secret society of people who sniff spices. Particularly, parsley. You don’t have to kill anyone. In fact, I would prefer if you didn’t. Just find out if there’s any truth to the claims. That’s all.”

“That sounds ridiculous.”

“Rumors often are,” he grinned.

“How will I get there?”

“I’m sure you have your ways.”

“Great,” she groaned. “No help.”

“I’m helping you by giving you a change of scenery! Some sunnier locales, if you will!”

“Is that where your wife is?”

“Ha! No. I believe at the moment, she’s visiting some ruins in Greece.”

“Okay. I’ll go.”

“Great!” He looked like he was about to do a dance. “And don’t worry about little Tigershark, here. I’ll watch her while you’re away.”

“Fine by me, but you better not harm her.”

“You have my word as a chef, I would do no such thing. In fact, she will be in less danger with me, because I will teach her more practical things.”

That sounded boring! But adults sure did like to act like boring things were fun! I kicked the chair, that way Ray would get my attention.

“Oh! Sorry, dear. You’re still in the room!”

“Teach me to cook!” I demanded.

“Of course, I’ll teach you to cook and all sorts of wonderful things.”

“And we’ll eat not-gross food?”

“Only the finest in my restaurant,” he put his hand on his chest.

“Yay! I’m going to eat some gum now!”

I ran into the restaurant side of the house and began my mission. When I was all finished, Ray called for me and a plate of food was waiting for me in the back. It was a weird squid pastry dish, but I loved it. It took me a while before I noticed that Remora wasn’t in the room with us.

You better not have died. We still have to see the penguins.

[kisskissbanggang]

Apple Pie

[~15 Min Read/~4K Words -- Working Stiff!Johnny x Working Stiff!Fem Reader Domestic AU -- Fluff & Smut -- Second Puberty, Self-Discovery, Experimenting with Roles]

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It started with a pie.

You could pretend to be ignorant, but you knew exactly when this whole mess started. The first week after you had returned to the workshop after your grandmother's funeral, you had been chewed out for something you knew you were much too experienced to get wrong. Your supervisor had more than enough right to reprimand you, but let you off with a stern confrontation. You had gone home, seething and nursing a pulsing headache from the stress, and once again regarded the dusty cardboard shoebox that had been sitting on your dinner table for days.

Inside the shoebox was the most tangible thing your grandmother had willed you. Yes, she had skipped your mother and left you the majority of her savings in bonds and accounts that you weren't to touch until much later, but she had also left you her most valuable possession: her recipe book. Well, at one point in time it must've been a book. Now, it was a shoebox filled to the brim with recipes, some neatly written on formal recipe cards, some transcribed from friends and scrawled on memo pads, some simply clippings from magazines and food packaging with modifications jotted in the margins. In all of your frustration and grief over the woman that raised you more than the mother she already raised, you plunged your hand into the box and pulled out a recipe. Blueberry pie.

You marched right back out of the apartment, still in your shabby work clothes, down to the bodega down on the corner and grabbing everything you needed, foregoing a basket and just piling all of your findings out of your arms and onto the check stand. You marched right back home and set to work. You'd never made a pie entirely from scratch before.

By the time Johnny got home that night, you weren't sitting on the couch as usual. You were stood at the oven, patiently watching your pie baking inside. The apartment smelled like your grandmother. He warily approached you, first bewildered by you baking, but then startled as he noticed the tears on your cheeks. Wordlessly, he pulled you to him in a hug. He hadn't even set down his work bag yet.

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For the next couple weeks, you kept pulling out recipes from the box. One of the early tasks was to organize everything once you'd made hors d'oeuvres for dinner one too many times. The shoebox was now home to a binder, with multiple recipes nestled safely in plastic sleeves. Everything was now in order and categorized. Cards slowly began showing your own new modifications, things you'd learned along the way or simply things that made more sense for your kitchen.

The next development didn't take place until the next month. You were finally tired of getting flour and oil splatters on your clothes, so you dug up an apron you had originally thrifted for one of Johnny's Halloween costumes back in college (a very successful gender-flipped I Love Lucy couples costume) and put it on. Upon tying the ridiculous thing around your waist, you even noticed a small table of measurement conversions pinned to the inside of the frilly pocket. You smoothed down the ruffled, pastel and gingham fabric, feeling odd as you realized it felt sort of... Pretty.

You attempted not to think much of it as you set about making dinner for the night: a chicken pot pie that smelled just like your childhood. It had been easy to get into the zone, concentrating on getting lost in cooking, that you hadn't even noticed the front door open. You pulled the piping hot pie out of the oven and gasped, nearly dropping the damn thing as you turned to set it on the dinner table. Johnny was stood in the kitchen threshold, staring slack-jawed as he eyed you up and down.

"Uh--" he stammered, "It smells amazing in here."

"Thanks?" You smiled, attempting to shake off how startled you just were and be a little humble. It did smell amazing in here.

Johnny kept staring at you as you sat at the dinner table, you thumbing through a book while he mindlessly scrolled through the day's headlines.

"Something wrong?"

"No," he answered, sounding far and away. You let it slide -- Johnny was never the type to bottle things up that were boiling over. He'd come to you eventually.

You took it upon yourself to observe your boyfriend a little more closely for the next week. Clearly, Johnny was going through something. You hadn't thought much of it when Johnny was excited to go out fishing with some work friends. He'd never been fishing before; of course he wanted to go. You hadn't really registered Johnny getting more interested in baseball again or expressing interest in the vintage car show downtown.

Johnny finally snapped a few days later. You just happened to catch him perusing old magazine ads -- something he regularly did for work -- but you happened to notice that they all had the same motif: husband, wife, picket fence and luxury. You were starting to get a full picture. You set out a handsome lasagna for dinner and gently prodded him as he scrolled through more ads.

"Johnny?"

"Yes, babe?"

"Have you been... Thinking about something?"

Johnny nearly imploded from exasperation. "I guess I haven't been super discreet about it," he sighed, "Remember my self-discovery kick in college?"

You did. Johnny felt so out of touch with his heritage that he worked on his Korean, took a couple trips there, learned everything he could about the history and food and culture... What did this have to do with that?

"I guess I spent so much time figuring out what that part of my heritage meant that I... I guess I don't really feel American either?"

"Johnny, I don't want to invalidate you but that sounds ridiculous."

"Does it, though?" Johnny massaged his temples in frustration. He'd hardly touched his dinner. "I keep thinking of this idea of the classic manly American man and what it would be like to feel that. Like, to feel that self-assured and free and... I don't know. It sounds insane now that I say it out loud."

"Well... Not really, actually."

"Really?"

"It was quite the dream, wasn't it? You spent a lot of time learning what masculinity was, if I remember correctly. You figured out how to filter out the more toxic bits, but now it sounds like you're figuring out how to... I guess how to embrace your manliness."

Johnny lit up, ecstatic that he didn't sound like a lunatic. Feeling more content, life went on as normal for another few weeks.

Until the skirt.

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With spring in full swing, you found out the hard way that you were running out of new and practical shorts and capris one overdue laundry day. Desperate for an outfit to get the shopping done for dinner, you found a skirt at the bottom of a drawer that you had worn years ago to a brunch your grandmother dragged you to. It was nothing special: a simple and classic skirt that flared just a bit from your waist. You paired the skirt with some sandals and a cute blouse and went shopping.

You hadn't thought anything of your clothing choice until Johnny came home to you pulling a pot roast out of the oven. It would've been hard to miss his entrance -- Johnny's work bag slid off his shoulder and hit the floor as he stopped short in the kitchen. He took in the sight of you: skirt, apron, hair done up and out of your eyes.

"I like it." He blurted, the smallest hint of a blush crawling over his cheeks.

"What?" You asked, puzzled as you set the pot roast on the stovetop to cool.

"I like... All of this." Johnny gestured awkwardly, waving his hand in a circle encompassing the whole picture of you. You felt probed. "I like -- good god, this sounds weird but you don't like it when I dance around issues -- I like it when you're all domestic-y like this."

The hairs on the back of your neck raised. Domestic? Your mind raced. Johnny babbled as you breezed past him and locked yourself in the bedroom. He ran after you, knocking on the door. He knew you wouldn't keep him out long, but he was taken aback when he noticed you were crying as you opened the door.

"I'm not some tamed animal," you stated, still a little wounded.

"That was a stupid choice of words. I'm sorry," he immediately offered.

"What did you even mean by that?" You cut to the chase, not wanting to worry about formalities of apologies.

"I meant..." Johnny sighed as he held you close, "I guess I meant that I like seeing you being such a provider in the house. All this baking and cooking? I never saw it coming from you, and you know that. Coming home to the smell of dinner cooking? Having a fresh baked pie on a Sunday afternoon? The apartment actually feels even more like a home than it already did. I like seeing you like this. You seem happier."

Soothed, you relaxed into his embrace. However, you both knew he also meant something else. Maybe Johnny had a point. You had never aspired to be a homemaker in any fashion. You had actually met Johnny when he was doing a piece for the campus paper on your activist coalition in college. Head shaved, hairy legs and armpits, no bra -- everything you could do to fight against the classic ideals of femininity you blindly fell into your whole life before then -- and Johnny had fallen madly in love with you. He called you "Tiger Lady" inspired by your favorite girl band and because of how feisty you were. Even now after college -- mostly grown out of your physical displays of rebellion but still favoring practicality -- Johnny still called you Tiger Lady. It didn't seem like Johnny wanted you to be some Stepford wife. In fact, it didn't seem like Johnny wanted that at all. He just wanted what he liked about those old ads -- a capable and pretty mate who put as much effort into her home as she did in herself. You liked to boast about your put-together life, including your mature and skilled partner. Wouldn't that mean Johnny wanted to as well? Learning to cook was a huge thing; of course Johnny was impressed. And, maybe, it fulfilled a little of that American dream he'd been coveting. Johnny thought you being happier with your looks and your skills also made you look more attractive. You suddenly felt lucky to have a partner like Johnny. Well, didn't an attentive partner deserve some attention in return? You set about a sneaky plan.

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Johnny came home on Friday evening to a bright apartment. For a moment, he wasn't sure it was his apartment. The place was spotless, for one thing. You both normally ran a tidy ship, but this was the cleanest it had ever been. For another thing, some furniture had appeared. In his favorite space by the bookcase, his rickety rocking chair had been replaced with a plush recliner. Next to the chair sat a tasteful side table with a lamp on it. He regarded the chair, curious as he set his bag down. He cautiously sat down, momentarily alarmed at how soft it was as he kicked up the footrest. He noticed a drink on the side table: a cold gin and tonic. He gladly tasted the drink, nearly coughing it up as you finally entered the room.

You smoothed out your dress. You had picked one out that matched your new apron and looked just like those housewives in the old ads, complete with petticoat and pearls. In fact, you had donned all the appropriate accessories, including a face full of makeup that took you an hour of video tutorials to finish. You were snapped and buttoned and pinned into place, your bobbed hair puffed up and sprayed. You had to admit looking this good felt incredible. Johnny was speechless as you approached, your high heels giving your hips a natural sway.

"Welcome home, honey." You cooed, leaning down to leave a red lip print on Johnny's astonished cheek. "Do you like your present?"

"Which one?" He replied incredulously as he set the cocktail down. His hands were immediately drawn to you, absently wrapping around your cinched waist and dragging you down to sit on his lap.

"The chair, silly. You work so hard, I thought you deserve an easy chair, so you can take it easy after a long day."

"'Easy' is certainly a word for it." Johnny fumbled for his glass, sharing a small laugh as you flashed your lacquered nails reaching for it and placing it in his hands. "Is everything alright?"

"More than alright," you soothed, "I just wanted to show some appreciation for you encouraging me to embrace change."

Johnny tentatively pet your meticulous hairstyle, his hand lingering as it traveled down your back. "Change isn't always a bad thing," he said matter-of-factly.

"Took me a second to recognize that. I don't feel like entirely the same person."

"Good!" Johnny laughed, "Can you imagine if we acted the same as we did three years ago? You're not a new person; you just changed a little. If you change the wallpaper, the house isn't new, it's just changed a little."

"I'm a house?" You smirked, bemused.

"You're a home. I can go anywhere with you and feel safe and welcome."

"So, I'm not new then?" You offered a sly smile as you shifted on Johnny's lap to face him more.

"Nah," Johnny insisted flippantly.

"But my dress is new--" you pouted, smoothing out the fabric.

"It is. It's very nice."

"-- and my apron is new--"

"I saw that. I was thinking of getting you a new one."

"-- and this is new." You slowly unsnapped the top three buttons of your dress, letting your it fall open to reveal the delicate bra and cincher underneath. Johnny's eyes shot wide, impressed at the amount of effort you’d made. He reached a wanting hand towards your displayed chest--

When the oven timer rang.

Johnny gawped as you buttoned back up, kissing him on the cheek again as you got up. He followed you dumbly into the kitchen, reeling as you whipped back around to face him.

"Hope it's alright if we skip straight to dessert," you grinned.

"I was wondering why you said it was okay to eat on the way home," Johnny smirked.

"Go ahead and sit at the dinner table and I'll be right there."

Johnny watched expectantly as you set a slice of piping hot apple pie in front of him, complete with a scoop of homemade vanilla ice cream. "No way," he laughed excitedly, "I was wondering when this was coming."

"About as American as it gets, honey," you winked. You gracefully sat on the edge of the table, legs crossed and gently tipping Johnny's chin up to look at you as you grabbed a spoon and scooped up a bite of pie. His eyes pored over you as your red lips closed around the spoon, savoring the texture and taste. "You feeling pretty manly today?" You asked softly as you picked up another scoop. Johnny stared right into you and let you feed him. His hands were balled up into distracted fists on the table as you grabbed another bite for yourself. Finally, he gave in, unable to hold back from you any longer.

Sliding the chair back, Johnny plucked the spoon out of your hand and set it on the table before hauling you back into his lap. He breathed hard as he cupped your face in his hands, his chest rising and falling as he tried to stay calm. "Before I get too distracted," he said, "this isn't actually a cry for help or anything is it?"

"You're too much sometimes," you laughed, "but thanks for checking. Don't worry, I just want to show off."

"Show me everything," he breathed as his lips crashed into yours, kissing you almost entirely too hard and more desperately than you'd previously imagined. This was almost surprisingly effective. You tugged on his necktie, making him grunt against you in sync with the throb felt through all your layers of undergarments. His fingers dug into your hips but traveled no further, really giving you a chance to take the lead. You unsnapped your top three buttons once again, bringing you right back to where you previously were. Johnny's Adam's apple bobbed as you softly slid off his knee and onto the floor between his legs. His eyes flitted to your shiny red nails as you worked his belt undone and dug his cock out from under his briefs. Johnny's breath caught in his throat as you slowly trailed your tongue up his entire length, your plump, ruby lips enclosing around the head and gently sucking. You looked up under your eyelashes as you heard him curse sharply under his breath. You moaned contently as Johnny gripped the chair, his whole body tensing as you bobbed the majority of his entire length into your throat. Throwing his head back, Johnny groaned. "Good god, honey," he laughed breathlessly, "are you kidding? You haven't sucked my dick like this in years."

"Oh, you want me to back off?" You smiled devilishly as you sat back on your heels.

"No-no-no-no-no-no-no-no," Johnny hurriedly grabbed your shoulders and guided you back, "it feels amazing, you feel amazing, please don't stop yet."

You sweetly leaned forward, kissing the tip before sucking him deep into your mouth and relishing his deep moans. It wasn't entirely clear how much longer you went, but your jaw just began to get tired as Johnny finally eased you off. "I can't finish like this," he panted, "I need more." You watched as Johnny stood up and pulled you to your feet before sitting you back on the edge of the dinner table.

"What are you going to do to me, darling?" You giggled as Johnny visibly shivered at the endearment.

"We’ll see. Show me what you're hiding under that dress," he smirked.

"Oh, it's nothing," you shrugged nonchalantly. You slowly slid the hem of your dress up over your knees, Johnny's hungry gaze following close behind as you pulled the dress up your thighs. Once the snaps of your garters came into view, Johnny cursed again. You giggled sweetly, enjoying yourself as you sat up to shimmy down your delicate, sheer panties that were sat on top of the suspenders for just this occasion. Your bare pussy fully on display, framed by your lacy garter and stockings, Johnny bit hard into his lip. He didn't even have to say it for you to know what he was marveling at: you were hardly ever hairless, but you'd really wanted to give it a try for this. "Do you think I'm wet enough?" You asked innocently.

Johnny was already knelt in front of you. "I guess I'll have to check." He dove into you, his tongue gliding over your velvety pussy as he hooked your thighs over his shoulders.

"How is it, darling?" You asked, gently peeling his head back from you.

"Perfect," he sighed, his eyes glazed over, "sweeter than your apple pie." Johnny rose from his knees, laughing gently at the demure blush that bloomed under the powder brushed across your cheeks. His hand was firmly stroking his erection, keeping him hard and ready before he pushed into you, both of you erupting into moans and clutching onto each other. He filled you, encased by your warm pussy. You squeezed your eyes shut in the pleasure shooting up through you, your hands grasping at his necktie and yanking him close. Johnny met you in another impassioned kiss, his tongue hot and pleading in your mouth. He reached a hand out to brazenly grope at your breasts in the intricate bra you wore, not daring to take it off and instead choosing to admire the display you laid out for him. You reclined on the dinner table that wobbled beneath you with each of Johnny's thrusts, your legs wrapping tight around his hips to hold him close.

Johnny's hand traveled from your breast up to your face, confidently smirking to himself as you instinctively poked your tongue out and pulled his passing thumb into your mouth. The hand traveled down to your neck, pausing momentarily to squeeze on your throat gently, almost affectionately, playing with your pearl necklace before tracing down your stomach and down further to your pussy. "You're so beautiful," he moaned. His thumb gently stroked your clit, pausing to revel in how you arched your back at his touch. He gazed down at you, hypnotized at the sight of you dressed up and disheveled on the table, laid out like a feast with your gorgeous outfit bunched up around your hips, your blushing pussy sheathing his cock as he stroked your trembling clit.

"You're so good, Johnny," you mewled, "please don't stop." You quietly and repeatedly begged, rolling your hips onto his erection and against his strumming thumb. "You're so good to me, darling," you prodded, "please make me cum." Johnny nodded, determined and concentrating as he touched you just the way he knew drove you wild. You attempted to hold back, suddenly very aware of the neighbors as you crashed into your orgasm, your squeaks and squeals still escaping practically unrestrained. Johnny smiled, content and proud as your climax continued to course through you. You knew he wouldn't last long -- he loved how much harder you throbbed around him after you came.

"This is so god-damned good," Johnny growled, the thin sheen of perspiration showing on his brow.

"It is," you whimpered, "and I need you to fill me up, Johnny." Johnny's hips stuttered, nearly pausing at your request. It was a rare one for sure. His eyes lit up, somehow even more aroused than he had been up until now. "Fill me up, darling," you begged sweetly. Johnny nodded fervently, grunting as he tried to hit the right pace with his fast approaching climax. His hands circled your waist, gripping you hard and pulling your spasming walls down tight around his erupting cock. He cried out, almost immediately doubling over on top of you as he filled you up.

He stayed like that for a couple minutes, letting his breath slow and enjoying how you affectionately stroked his hair. "Would you like help getting undressed?" He asked optimistically, murmuring against your neck. He rose, letting his soft cock slide out of you. He snatched a paper napkin from the table and quickly patted himself dry before shedding his clothes. He watched intently as you pulled off the apron and stepped out of your dress, his deft fingers immediately reaching out to help unclip your cincher, bra, and garters. He placed gentle kisses to the lines and indents the undergarments had pressed into your skin, making his way down to softly tug off your delicate stockings. You excused yourself to go run to the bathroom, savoring the feeling of the steaming hot shower in your afterglow.

You found Johnny reading in bed after your shower. He looked up, almost elated to see you in your usual sweats and messy bun as you crawled into bed. "Hey, Tiger Lady," he whispered into your hair as he pulled you close, "how're you feeling?"

"I'm feeling really good," you sighed, "I'm wondering what to make for dinner tomorrow."

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[fatetrollsblog]

Namurr Ninama Introduction!

Hello everyone! Mod Leo here again with my first interesting post (at least i hope it will be :P), ans as I said in the first intro post, I will present to you my first oc, a teal blooded troll called Namurr Ninama! After this post, interractions with Namurr will be enabled to anyone willing to take the time to ask her a question! Without futher ado let’s get onto the presentation.

I’ll proceed as the following: 

Basic informations

Personality, traits, etc

Additional informations and info about sburb

1.Basic infos

First of all, you must know everything basic about her. The lady’s name is Namurr Ninama, teal blood, and as I created her way before the troll call started, I gave her a sign that isn’t on the extended zodiac, but according to her aspect and planet, she’d be libun. Namurr comes from tiger in indian and Ninama came when I saw that sleep in singhalese. Most of my ocs were named after words from other langauges because I am not original, but in the end i manage to find some great reference, don’t worry! Anyway, more basic yet important infos coming up! As her last name intend, she likes to sleep. She owns her very own moving cloud, which seems to be conscious, and isn’t actually just steam but fluffy like a human-sized (or troll-sized in that case) pillow. She has owned it since she was a little grub, and she guessed that it was her mom that created it. Talking about her mom, her lusus is Tigermom. She is a large tiger, about 2m tall (sorry american people over here I speak baguette), with a white fur and teal stripes, as well as large clouds of steam coming out of her blank eyes. Namurr assumed the cloud came from here! Last thing, she lives in a relatively large house deep into a jungle, but actually not that deep, she’s at about 20 minutes on foot from the nearest town, but she likes to call herself some sort of hermit to look cool. 

2.Personality

Namurr is a cold headed girl, that most of the time thinks before acting. She’s most of the time grumpy and flees troll-contact, even if she craves for it. Having poeple liking her is the only thing that keeps her going, as she sleeps more than half of the day like a cat, she spends the other time trying to be loved by people. Just like me, music influences greatly her mood, and thankfully she mostly listens to 80′s rock bands, such as Cheap Trick or jazz like Curtis Mayfield or Weather Report. She herself plays the saxophone, and as a breath player, she’s really good at it. She’s the quiet type, as if something wakes her up, she gets mad, so she doesn’t want to wake up anyone, yet no ne ever sleep around her?? She despise people always excited, all outgoing and stuff, she actually finds them pretty boring. Namurr is a hyper sensitive person, especially to sound, lighting and people. She gets easily oppressed by someone taking too much space, as she’s overwhelmed by informations. She would look like a pretty slow person, but when she gets herself up and ready to get shit done, she’s all in for it, as long as it benefits herself. She’s not the type of person that will do something for you without asking a favor in return. But since she has a pretty great sense of humor, she likes making the person that owes her a favor promise they will do it and just send them buy some eggs in town because hell, it’s far away and her feet aren’t made for this. However, what her feet are made for is walking around her forest/jungle, to hang out a bit, empty her head of all negative thoughts, as sleep only make things worse for her. Other than that, her hair, and her person in general looks messy, but she tries to put order in almost everything, except her life. She gave up on that a while ago, but she just thinks that restoring order somewhere is something she’d do all day if she was paid. Namurr likes to explain complicated stuff through schemes and diagrams, which usually is a better way of understanding her thoughts than listening to her. As a Maid of Breath, through the months in sburb, Namurr learned that she could rely much more on herself and not on other people like she did back on Alternia, which changed her into a great maid of breath. Obviously she was meant to change that way as her godtier was settled before her very existence, but you get what I mean when I talk about her growth as a person. After her realisation, she slowly gained confidence, and ended up as some kind of leader over the group with a few others we’ll talk about in another post.

3.Additional informations and info about sburb

In sburb, she was the last of the list to get involved, and she entered the bronze blood that all started the loop. Most of the time in the session, she’s been slacking off, not really going toward new things, but at one point she got kicked in the ass by like 3 people at the same time including her dancestor, and started to work a lot on sburb. She eventually got killed by her matesprite after a huge dispute, but when her lover understood she made a mistake, she brought her to her quest bed right before she passed out forever and it turned her godtier. Technically she didn’t kill her she even boosted her. Her medium is the Land of Skies and Spirits. The sky is split up randomly into different shades of blue, more going towards grey than anything else. The clouds are so t h i c c  that the spirits can’t leave the planet, Namurr has for quest to blow the spirits up with enough strength to break the clouds, as the clouds can’t get blown away. 

Anyway I do believe that’s all I had to say, if you want to interract with Namurr, she’s now unlocked and you can ask her some questions or just mess with her! Have fun!

[tbehartoo]

Shipping Wars II-Class Warfare

Summary: Alya and Marinette are thinking of alternate partners for Ladybug!

Rating: General audiences? Pretty sure it’s all good for all involved.

“So,” Alya sat down on Marinette’s chaise lounge, “if Chat Noir and Ladybug weren’t together...”

“Alya!” Marinette protested, “Nothing says they are together!”

“Who in our class do you think would end up dating Ladybug?” she continued as if she hadn't heard Marinette’s interruption. They were getting together to “study”, but since it was Friday night it really meant having fun and if homework got done? Bonus.

“What?” Marinette’s face turned red and her eyes opened wide. “What kind of a question is that to ask?” She picked up her box of nail polish and started rummaging through it, but Alya grabbed the container to get Mari’s focus back on the task at hand.

“It's just something I was thinking about today,” Alya said with a shrug of her shoulders. She picked a color for herself then handed the rest back.  “Wouldn't it be amazing if someone we know was with Ladybug?” She gave a little sigh. “If it was one of our friends then maybe we could hang out with her. Wouldn't that just be so cool?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess that would be kind of awesome,” Marinette agreed. “What do you think she’d be doing right now if we were with her?” she asked trying to change the topic.

Inside she was struggling between being mortified that Alya would be setting up her alter ego with anyone they knew and being intrigued with who she thought would be a good match. Eventually the curiosity got to her.

“So who were you thinking of hooking her up with?” she tried to ask as casually as possible as she struggled to open the bottle.

Alya took the polish from her and easily opened it. “I guess that would depend on knowing if she's only into guys or if girls are also on her preferred list,” Alya said thoughtfully distracted handing the bottle back.

Marinette went very still, was there some reason Alya thought that? Had she done or said something as Ladybug to give that impression?

“Wh-wh-what makes you think she's into anyone at all?”she stammered. When Alya raised an eyebrow in her direction she continued, “I mean we don't even know if she actually like likes anyone that way. I know you think she likes Chat Noir,” Alya smirked and nodded her head, “but there isn't any real proof for that.”

Alya continued to pointedly stare.

“Or what if she can only be attracted to someone that she knows really well and totally trusts?” Mari asked quietly.

Alya thought for a moment. She grabbed the remover and some cotton balls as she thought. “Okay, for the purposes of this experiment we are going to assume that Ladybug knows everyone in the class really, really well. So that wouldn't be a problem.” She started taking off what remained of last week’s color. “Also, we're assuming that the people in class actually know her, so it's not like they are just using Ladybug to be famous, or infamous if you will.”

Marinette nodded in agreement. She doused a new cotton ball in the stinking liquid and started on her other hand. “That sounds ... good?” When Alya looked up she just smiled. “We wouldn’t want just anybody trying to score Ladybug as their girlfriend if they didn’t actually know her.”

“So, who do you think would be the perfect match for Ladybug,” Alya asked again with more enthusiasm, really getting into it.

Marinette started to paint a stripe of pale pink onto her nails. “Well,” she appeared to be lost in intense concentration which didn’t fool Alya at all. They both knew whose name would come up.  

“If we’re finding someone that’s sweet, kind, thoughtful, and handsome then obviously it should be Adrien,” she said knowing that Ladybug would not object to that suggestion in the least.

“No fair Mari!” Alya said, a scowl crossing her face, “Adrien is completely off the list. He’s my future brother-in-law, and I will not have him breaking Ladybug’s heart to be with you.” Marinette rolled her eyes while Alya continued, “i love you, so I’m saying this to you right now. I don’t even want you to say his name tonight. Choose again.”

Marinette thought carefully as she painted a few more nails then tentatively asked, “Um, is Nino off the list, too?”

Alya considered the suggestion as she waved her hand to dry the nails faster. “No, he can be on there. But why would you pair him and Ladybug?”

“Well...he’s nice to almost anyone, and a really good friend to Adri...to all of us,” she hurriedly corrected since the near mention of Adrien’s name had Alya giving her one of her patented don’t-even-think-about-saying-it looks. “He’s also got great taste in music, and he makes us laugh so that’s got to be a bonus. And he’s got a deep sense for what’s right and what’s wrong so Ladybug would totally be on board for that. And he’s not bad looking...”

She glanced over at her friend. Maybe mentioning all the good qualities of her best friend’s boyfriend wasn’t the best idea. Especially since they both knew that Nino had once had a bit of a crush on her.

“Who were you thinking about?” she hastily asked as she rushed to start painting her right hand. When Alya didn’t immediately begin talking she prompted her by saying, “You did say you had thought about this today. Right?”

“Right,” Alya gave herself a little shake then started going over her list with Marinette. “Well first I thought that Kim would probably be the best match for her of all the boys.”

Marinette almost choked but turned it into a small cough. She’d ruined the paint on that finger though. “What? Why him?” She had her head down totally focusing on fixing the nail and not at all interested in finding out why Kim would be her next best match, because Adrien was totally still at the top of her list.

“Well, if anyone is going to be able to keep up with her it would be Kim,” Alya said with a one shoulder shrug. She had finished covering her fingers in a rich red color and had started working on her toes. “He’s tall and athletic, and always up for a challenge.”

“But he can be so rude when he’s trying to get a competition going,” Mari protested.

“There is that,” Alya agreed. “And he can be a little hot-headed, too. We need to think about this more.”

Both girls painted in silence for a few moments.

“So, not Kim then,” Marinette said to break the growing tension.

“No, not Kim.” Alya capped the bottle and sat with her hands and feet carefully not touching anything.

“What about...Max?” Marinette offered tentatively. She had never actually considered if she’d want to go out with Max before.

“Well, he is really smart, so that’s something he and Ladybug have in common.”

“But Max is super smart! Like super duper smart. He really likes technology and,” Mari shuddered, “math. Like, Advanced Mathematics, not just regular math.” She groaned because while she used things like addition, multiplication, and division all the time, when the alphabet became involved she and math weren’t always on speaking terms.

Alya patted Mari gingerly on the head. “Not everyone has a hate/hate relationship with math Marinette. I bet Ladybug is really good at it, and that would be a point in his favor.”

“No one really likes math Alya, and anyone that says they do is selling something!” Mari declared.

Alya giggled while Marinette put the box of nail polish away while keeping out the clear coat. This was her favorite part of doing nails with Mari. She watched as Marinette pulled out her acrylic paints and her smallest brushes. Marinette gets to be creative and Alya ends up with some killer nail art. She put her right hand in Marinette’s waiting work area.

“Wait, what about...” Alya started laughing at her idea. “No, it’d never work.”

Marinette paused in adding some white swirls to Alya’s thumb. “What about who? Come on Alya, spill!”

Alya had a big grin on her face, “What about Ivan?”

“Ivan and Ladybug?” Mari began to smile. “He’d probably get akumatized every time Ladybug had to battle because he wouldn’t want them picking on her. And then she’d have to fight him, too.”

They both laughed at the thought of big, tough Ivan trying to both protect and attack Ladybug.

“Nah, he really likes Mylene and they are just so cute together,” Mari said once their giggles had died down. She loaded one side of a tiny flat brush and proceeded to paint miniature white orchid petals to create tiny blossoms on each nail.

“I guess that means Mylene is also off the list,” Alya said, watching with rapt attention as a few white dots added emphasis to the swirls.

“Yes, I think she and Rose and Juleka are all off the list. I don’t think any of them would be totally happy with Ladybug over the people the care for right now.”

A few tiny dots of gold paint for the flower centers and a protective cover of clear varnish made the art on Alya’s nails pop.

“Well if we’re going to be considering girls to match up with Ladybug, then how about Alix?”

Marinette considered then nodded. “She’s strong and tough. And she never backs down from any of Kim’s challenges. She might make a good match for Ladybug.”

“And she’s self-confident just like the Lady,” Alya added.

She watched as Marinette started to decorate her own nails with tiger stripes of black and neon green over the pale pink. There was silence as she worked.

“But Alix can hold a grudge,” Alya pointed out as if just spotting a problem. “How would that be for Ladybug to always be in trouble for having to cancel on her? She would permanently be in the doghouse.”

“Probably not the the best choice for Paris’ hero then,” Mari agreed. When she got to the ring finger Mari made one large oval of black with four smaller ovals above it, then gave them green highlights. A nice nod toward Chat Noir that she hoped wasn’t too obvious.

Suddenly Mari’s face went pale as a thought struck her full force. She dropped her paint brush and looked at Alya with wide horror struck eyes.

“Oh no,” she moaned. “No, no, no, no! That would be disastrous.”

Alya looked her friend over. It was obvious that Mari was in real distress. “Mari, are you okay?”

There was no answer. Marinette sat rocking a little back and forth just staring at the far wall.

“Mari?” Alya was frowning. She waved a hand in front of her friend’s face, but there was no reaction. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng you talk to me right now!”

Marinette closed her eyes and whispered a single word, “Chloe.”

It took a few seconds for Alya to process what Marinette had said but when she did she burst out laughing. Great, bone shaking belly laughs burst out of the girl. Marinette stared at her friend in horror and growing resentment, Alya was almost rolling on the floor in mirth.

“Just think of it,” she wheezed trying to get her breath back. “Chloe already has a matching costume and yo-yo!”

Mari was staring in disbelief at Alya.

“And Ladybug is the only person that can sometimes make Chloe be nice.”

Alya sat up wiping the tears that had rolled down her cheeks. A small smile began to turn one corner of Mari’s mouth toward the ceiling

“And Chloe actually adores Ladybug. She’d probably get her father to outlaw akumas if they were too much for her girlfriend!”

Marinette had a full smile on her face.

“And poor Chat Noir would have to deal with two bickering Ladybugs trying to be the one in charge.”

A giggle slipped past Mari’s pursed lips. The image of a confused Chat trying to get his Lady’s attention over Chloe’s rants was, she had to admit, slightly funny.

“And to top it off she’d get Sabrina as a backup girlfriend!” Alya crowed and fell back to laughing.

Marinette joined her laughing on the chaise. The picture of Ladybug and Chloe trying to battle an akuma with Sabrina being told to do the Chloebug’s part of the work while Chat stands scratching his head in confusion was just too much.

Much later, after the laughter had subsided, and they could look at each other and not break into giggles, Mari had one final suggestion.

“You know Alya, if Ladybug couldn’t be with Adri… well you know who.”

“Voldemort? Never she needs a man with a nose.”

Mari rolled her eyes and tried again. “If Ladybug really wanted someone to be with then I’d have to say the perfect match for her would actually be you.”

Alya smiled. “Well if Chat Noir and Nino don’t mind sharing…”

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7 BAD - ASS CHICKS OF MYTHOLOGY

LIFESTYLE 7 BAD-ASS CHICKS OF MYTHOLOGY.

FIGHTING A BATTLE? HOOK UP WITH A WARRIOR GODDESS LIFESTYLE

WITCH APRIL 20, 2016

   by Renée Damoiselle

Sometimes in life it feels like we can use a little support!  We fight battles every day, don’t we?

Some of them are quite literal battles and some are more metaphorical.  Whatever you’re struggling with, working on, fearing or reaching for, there is a Goddess who can help.

Set forth below are brief descriptions of 7 Warrior Goddesses and the reasons you might want to work with them.   If you can’t seem to find your own power in any given situation, borrow a bit from one of these amazing Ladies.  I’ll give you some tips on how to do that.

But first, let’s get down a few basics.

When I say “working with a goddess” (or working with any deity for that matter), what I’m talking about is building a relationship with that entity.

Whether you believe the gods and goddesses to be actual autonomous supernatural entities or simply believe these mythologies represent psychological archetypes, they can be extremely useful to you in your endeavors.

Alright.  If you’re going to do battle, you need a few rules of engagement.

The first thing I’m going to lay on you, my witchy friends, is some really powerful shit.  Magic Words.  Yup,  You need some specific Magic Words to deal with deity.

When I teach this subject in person, I usually put the question out to the crowd.  “What are the Magic Words?”  … Usually the response is … crickets.

If there is an audience member under the age of 10 and if I prod enough, generally that child will eventually raise her hand and say… “um… Please and Thank You?”     YES Little magical child!  Yes!  Please and Thank You!

The point is, we approach deity with respect and gratitude.  We are building relationships here, asking favors.  It’s a little different from what most Americans normally think of as prayer.  It’s not one-sided.  Remember that and you’ll be alright.

Also, the Goddesses set forth below all have very rich mythologies and there are differing opinions on what mythologies apply to them and what may have been more recently made up or blended with other deities.  PLEASE, do some research!

This quick overview is intended to give you some idea of which goddesses you may want to work with.

It is not intended as the final word.  If you find yourself attracted to a particular warrior based on these descriptions, then get more information on her. Do your research with a sincere desire to get to know her in your heart.  This will move you forward in your relationship.

I’m going to give you some basic ideas about offerings, altar spaces and ritual practice.  Experiment with these things.  There is no hard and fast right or wrong in these practices.  You will slowly get to know these entities and how they communicate with you!  If you approach with respect and sincerity you will be well received.

And before we get into the goddess stories, I want to offer you one more word about requesting the presence of the goddess for your ritual, prayer, meditation or offering.

You can invoke a deity by requesting its presence and lighting a candle and paying attention to the energies around you.  This implies inviting the goddess IN from somewhere else (her own realm, I guess).  And this is fine.

But you’d do well – and, I believe, find yourself much more empowered in the long run, to EVOKE the goddess.  This is the practice of bringing her into your presence from where she truly resides…. Inside of you!

“If that which thou seekest, thou findest not within thee, thou wilt never find it without.”  ~ Doreen Valiente.

If you’re not familiar with that quote… please – do yourself a huge favor and Google it.  You will not be disappointed.

And now… on to our Goddesses!

1. Athena

Do you need a great strategy for your battle?  An intellectual approach?  Do you need to curb those emotions?  Athena might be the Lady for you. I think she’s perfect for someone going through a divorce or other court battle.

The Greek goddess, Athena, is usually portrayed as one of the most benevolent goddesses.  “Athena – Goddess of Wisdom” is known for her superb logic and intellect.

A supreme strategist, She helped Perseus defeat the Gorgon.  She is always on the side of the Hero trying to accomplish the impossible.

If Athena were to wear a button on her …. well, her breast-plate, it would read “Keep Calm and Reason On!”

If you are on a hero’s quest or in need of cool-headed assessment of a battle …. Athena is the lady to call upon.  Honor her with images of owls, shields and spears, also with artisanal creations including writing, weaving and metal-craft.  Her candle should be royal blue or gold.

2. The Morrigan

While Athena keeps us detached and calculating, there is no doubt that sometimes a bit of a fierce, powerful, passionate rage is what is called for.

Are you a bit “Goth”?  Do images of ravens appeal to you.  Do you LOOOOVE to wear all black?   This Celtic goddess might be for you.  The Morrigan is definitely a witch’s goddess.  She’s all about magic and spell-craft and getting what you want.

She’s been known by many names including (but not limited to)  Morrigu, Morgain, Morgan,  Lady of the Lake.

Our dear Morrigan embodies the phrase, “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” She is known for endurance and fierceness in battle.  Among her magical talents are shape-shifting and prophecy.

If the Morrigan were to wear a button on her breastplate it would read, “Quoth the Raven, Nevermore.”

If you are drawn to the Morrigan’s power, honor her with images of crows, ravens, bones and blood.   Her candle should be black or red.

3. Brigid

There are so many issues that this goddess can help with, it’s difficult to boil them down.  Are you an activist?  A medical professional? A poet? A blacksmith? A mother who has suffered the loss of a child?

See what I mean?  Brigid’s mythology covers such a broad spectrum of life experiences that she can almost suit anyone at any time in their lives.

Brigid, sometimes called Brighd, Bride, Brid, is the Celtic Lady of the Flames: As the warrior she embodies the concept of Fire in so many ways encompassing the other elements as well.

She is often associated with the Forge and metal-craft (Fire meets earth).  In this aspect, she can help with the process of the “Self-forge”.  This concept compares the trials and difficulties of life with the smithing of weaponry.

The blade of a sword is repeatedly plunged into the fire and heated almost to the point of destruction and then plunged into water to cool.  This process is called tempering and it strengthens the blade.  Call upon Brigid if you’re going through the fire.

Brigid is also seen as a compassionate healer (Fire meets water). She was said to have talent with herbal healing.

In her aspect as inspiration for poets and writers (Fire meets air) she can help you finish a book or give you inspiration for the lyrics for your next hit song.

In any endeavor Brigid can provide the passion to remain steadfast and perseverant in your quest.

If Brigid were to wear a button on her breastplate it would read, “All Fired Up!”

To honor her, use poetry or anything hand crafted. Images of serpents, calves and ewes are also appropriate.  Her candle should be purple.

To help with your research, I highly recommend this wonderful, in-depth book about Brigid, if you are interested in working with her:   Brigid: History, Mystery and Magick of the Celtic Goddess by Courtney Weber

4. Sekhmet

Do you fear the label, “bitch”, so often applied to feminists and strong women?  Do you need to be more assertive?  Or, alternatively, do you claim that persona and wear it proudly? Are you on the battlefield of today’s feminist movement?

Sekhmet, the Egyptian lioness goddess might just be for you.  Her name means “Powerful”.  Fierce and gracious, regal and deadly, She embodies the traits of instinct, temper, death & destruction.  Sekhmet’s breath represented a hot desert wind, and her body was the glare of the midday sun.

She was called “The Great Harlot” in the Book Of Revelations because she represents that aspect of the limitless power in women that terrifies patriarchy!  She is the bitch to embrace!  Don’t deny her or her aspect of yourself.

If Sekhmet were to wear a button on her breastplate, it would read, “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of my desert!”

If you recognize something of yourself in this goddess, honor her with images of Lions, the sun,  blood and pomegranate flavored beer.  Her candle should be golden/tan (like the color of a lion or the golden desert) or blood red.

5. Durga

Are you battling something that appears to be insurmountable?  Have you already approached the enemy from a variety of angles to no avail?  You may want to call on Durga.

One of my students recently pointed out that Durga is the goddess of the right tool for the job.  And she is!  With a thousand arms and a different weapon in each, Durga can vanquish any demon, even a shape-shifting one!

Her mythology puts her at the very height of the Hindu pantheon.

Durga was formed by the concentrated will of all the existing gods.  They created her in response to a demon they could not destroy, which threatened their utter destruction… so naturally, they created a GoddESS to take care of it! She cannot be defeated.

If Durga were to wear a button on her breastplate, it would read, “Whatever Doesn’t Kill Me Better Run!”

Honor her with images of lotus flowers, lions or tigers, anything golden, bright and reflective.  Her candle should be white and multiple wicked!

6. Freya

Teachers, witches learning spell-craft, would be seductresses, you may hear the call of the lovely Freya.

Freya, sometimes Freyja, is the Norse Queen of The Valkyries – entitled to half of the fallen heroes on the battlefield.

She taught the spell-craft of the Runes to the Gods, including Odin.  Freya’s mythology includes tales of her irresistible beauty.  Her mythology includes tales of unbridled sexuality and even stories which depict her trading sexual favors for a particularly powerful talisman.

The goddess Freya reminds us to explore and acknowledge all of our emotions, longings, and traits, even those we wish we didn’t possess.  If you love Aphrodite and/or Venus – but want a strong warrior essence along with the love aspect…Freya is a great choice.

If Freya wore a button on her breastplate, it would read, “No Regrets!”

She follows heart… who cares what others think? Do you need this? Honor her with Flowers and Music (as she SO values beauty!) Amber and Gold, images of falcons or cats … (a pair of blue lynx drew her chariot!)  Her candle should be the color of passion!  Red!

7. Kali

Are you ready to get real with yourself?  Doing some Shadow work, or simply trying to uncover some deep truth in your own nature?  If you are NOT into coddling, Kali may be your lady.

Kali is equated with the eternal night, as the transcendent power of time, so named because she devours kala (time) and then resumes her own dark formlessness. Kali represents the “enfolded order” in modern physics.  She is the formless void, yet full of potential.

Her frightening depictions are misleading, because she brings liberation from shadow, which is the highest form of compassion. The goddess of tough love, Kali is in your face, but on your side. She can provide you with courage to face the truth and also to release yourself from the false self  – the ego.

If Kali wore a button on her breastplate (well.. actually, on her necklace of skulls) – it would read, “The truth shall set you free; but first, it will piss you off!”

Honor her with images of skulls, swords or dance in her honor (a frenzied, ecstatic type of dance). Her candle and altar should be black.

There you have it, warriors of the world!  Now go forth and be Bad-Ass, with a little help from the Ladies here!

Source About the Author:

Renée Damoiselle is a Worldly Wise Crone Witch with personal ties to warrior deities. Her “raised eyebrow” style of Truth-Telling enables her clients to face the realities of their challenges and triumphs with confidence and humor (each when necessary). Renée offers divination and coaching combining Cartomancy, Reiki, Skrying, Mediumship and a healthy dose of good old common sense. She also offers many workshops and talks and facilitates women’s spiritual retreats. Friend her on Facebook.

The next Goddess Retreat will take place in Sedona, AZ in May 2016! It’s going to be awesome! E-mail AffordableSedonaRetreat@gmail.com for more information and a FREE GIFT! For more about Renée, read her blog.

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